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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29626365">Sea Glass</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindlystrawberry/pseuds/kindlystrawberry'>kindlystrawberry</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rune Factory 4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Childhood Memories, Crush at First Sight, Developing Relationship, F/M, Little Mermaid Elements, Love at First Sight, Mentions of Drowning, Mutual Pining, basically selphia doesn't exist so arthur stays at the capitol, hehehe he's moving up in the world, mermaid au, no longer a minor OC like in Blue this time Yuan's a medium/major OC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:33:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29626365</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindlystrawberry/pseuds/kindlystrawberry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing he sees before he loses consciousness completely is a long, streaming flash of green, so out of place from the rest of the ocean’s muddled scenery that he knows he never could have missed it. <i>What a beautiful color,</i> Arthur thinks, before the world fades to black.</p><p>Or: A repeated meeting with a young mermaid brings Arthur one step closer to finding what he thinks he's been missing his whole life.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arthur/Frey (Rune Factory)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was planning on posting this only when I'd written the whole thing, but after some intense writer's block and a really busy spring semester, I'm just going to go ahead and post the first two chapters. I hope you guys like it! This fic was based on a prompt from the Rune Factory Fic Writer's discord server. A big thanks to them for being so so supportive and friendly both personally and with my writing, and an extra thank you to Sketch for coming up with this fic's title, and Patt for beta-reading!! You guys are the best &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It is on what could have been the last day of his life that Arthur meets her.</p><p> </p><p>Journey by sea is always perilous in some way, but Arthur finds it absolutely fascinating nonetheless, so he always relishes the opportunities to go somewhere by boat. Now is one of those times, the imperial ship carrying the young prince back to Norad after a successful diplomatic meeting overseas. </p><p>He’s relishing the feeling of salt air whipping through his hair, sending the blonde strands tumbling behind him, when he hears the voice of his ever-faithful and ever-exasperated attendant. </p><p>“Prince Arthur, please,” Yuan says, coming up to stand beside him. Somehow his ever-neatly tied back hair wins even against the force of nature, because not a single blue strand looks out of place despite the heavy winds. “I beg of you to not lean so far forward over the railing— if you don’t care about your own safety, then what about for the sake of not losing your treasured glasses?”</p><p>Arthur suppresses the urge to pout—he may have when he was younger, but he’s nearly 23 now. He has a duty to remain diplomatic at all times, as exhausting as that is. </p><p>“You’re right of course, Yuan,” he says with an understanding smile. The attendant keeps staring pointedly at him, as Arthur doesn’t fully let go of the railing, but he does make a point to ease himself back so his feet are resting securely on the flooring of the boat— or, well, as securely as one can with how it’s swaying to and fro with the current. </p><p>“Though,” Arthur continues, “legend has it that there are sentient aquatic creatures living in these waters.” He’s saying it to tease Yuan, just slightly, but he can’t stop the sparkle that comes into his eyes, the excitement that sits just below the surface of his polite demeanor. “Perhaps if I lose my glasses, one would be so kind as to return them to me.”</p><p>Yuan snorts, though he quickly schools his expression back into a neutral expression. Or at least, he tries, but after years of being looked after by the slightly older man Arthur knows how to read the fondness tugging at Yuan’s lips. “One might almost think to say you spend too much time in the wrong sections of the royal library, milord.”</p><p>“Ah,” Arthur responds, nodding sagely as he glances at Yuan out of the corner of his eye, letting another smile ghost onto his lips so Yuan can be sure that Arthur says this in good humor. “It’s a good thing one doesn’t say that, then. It would be rather rude.”</p><p>“So it would.”</p><p>Arthur has long since stopped trying to convince others that he has, in fact, seen a mermaid before. They all say it’s just from too much sun on a busy day, or a trick of the light, or a child’s overactive imagination; as Arthur grew up he found it exhausting to try and prove the truth. So he stopped talking about it, but never stopped researching. The shelves of his personal study back in the castle are lined with every book he’s managed to get his hands on on the topic of mythical sea creatures and legends.</p><p>Yuan doesn’t leave his side, remaining with his hands folded dutifully behind his back as Arthur continues to stare out at the horizon. Wait— was the sky that dark a moment ago? He could have sworn that just before that conversation there had been nothing but blue skies, deep enough to drag him into the recesses of his own thought, but now thick grey clouds roll over the sky like drippings of ink staining a page.  </p><p>Arthur turns back around to see the crew of sailors dashing to and fro in a heavy commotion, yelling loud commands and doing their tasks— tending sails, mopping the deck, charting the wind. Arthur wishes desperately to be able to join them, to have some practical, adventurous skills such as theirs, but he knows that he’d do nothing but get in the way. </p><p>The rocking of the boat has gotten more and more severe, mirroring the state of the sea that they are now sailing through.  </p><p>“Milord,” Yuan says, sounding stern. “We should go below deck, before it gets too—“ </p><p>(In retrospect, Arthur should have listened properly to Yuan. He makes a mental note to deeply and sincerely apologize to his attendant, if he survives this).</p><p>One particularly strong lurch of the ship has Arthur losing his balance, sending him tumbling over the railing. He can just make out the panicked shout of Yuan before he hits the water, it’s violent current quickly pulling him under. </p><p>Taking all the strength he can muster, Arthur pushes himself up to break the surface, immediately gasping for air when he can. </p><p><em> “Milord!” </em>Yuan shouts again, hypocritically leaning far over the boat’s railing as he frantically looks down at Arthur. “Just stay put we’ll retrieve you this instant.”</p><p>Arthur nods, focusing too much on treading water to stay afloat against the tumultuous waves to give a proper response. </p><p>That’s when another wave hits him, not quite pulling him under but taking his glasses off of his face. The sight of the boat is blurry now, but he can still hear the unmistakable sound of Yuan shouting. </p><p>“I don’t <em> care </em>if you’re trying to change courses from the blasted storm, saving his royal highness is the most important thing at hand— don’t roll your eyes at me, you incompetent seaman!”</p><p>Arthur would laugh, if not for the situation. </p><p>Instead he focuses on trying to scan the immediate area, noting his glasses glittering just a few meters beneath the surface. Time is of the essence; if he goes now he could still retrieve them. </p><p>“Milord—“ Yuan calls out, leaning over the edge again, “what are you—!” </p><p>“My glasses!” Arthur calls back, before taking a deep breath and diving below the surface. </p><p>Going under of his own volition doesn’t make the water any less hectic, the current any less overwhelming. Still he pushes, deeper and deeper and forcing his eyes open to keep a line of sight on the silver glittering that must be his glasses. The colors are all too blurred together though, both from his impaired sight and from the already difficult task of seeing underwater, and he doesn’t notice the broad brown surface crashing towards him until he feels a sudden blow against his head, no doubt having swam too close to the body of the boat. </p><p>It knocks him back, sending his senses into further disarray within the weightlessness of water. He feels his vision go black, and finds himself vaguely wondering if it’s because of the lack of air in his lungs, or the impact. He supposes it doesn’t matter either way, but Arthur would have liked to know the cause of his own death. </p><p>The last thing he sees before he loses consciousness completely is a long, streaming flash of green, so out of place from the rest of the ocean’s muddled scenery that he knows he never could have missed it. </p><p><em> What a beautiful color, </em>Arthur thinks, before the world fades to black.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Arthur thinks he may have never felt so happy in all his 7 years of life. With the hustle and bustle of a new town all around him,<em> a port city,</em> one he’s never been to before, and both of his parents on either side of him, smiling brighter than he has ever seen them, he thinks that this will be the best day of his life. He’s bubbling over with affection, the loneliness of his mother’s distance and father’s busyness melting away under the heat of the coastal sun beating down on him.</p><p>“Where would you like to go first, son?” </p><p>Arthur looks up at his father, whose neat tufts of hair look gold enough to outshine the sun, actually.</p><p>The prince smiles shyly, trying to contain his excitement and act as he has learned a prince should. “I’d like to see the ocean.”</p><p>His mother laughs, the sound soft and delicate and shocking in how rarely he hears it. “Aren’t you hungry after the journey? Shouldn’t we eat first?”</p><p>Arthur shakes his head, so fervently that he nearly makes his new glasses fall off his face— ah, he hasn’t gotten used to these yet. In all honesty they’re a bit of a nuisance, but they match his mother’s, and any connection he has with her makes them special.</p><p>“No— ah, I really want to see the ocean. Please.”</p><p>His father’s laugh is loud and warm, less restrained than Arthur has ever heard. “Okay, son, let’s go get you to the ocean then.”</p><p>Being away from the castle seems to be good for all of them. Part of him never wants to go back. He doesn’t voice this thought out loud; he knows it would upset his parents.</p><p> </p><p>The ocean is beautiful, absolutely radiant, and after nearly an hour of dangling his legs off the pier— not the main ones that harbor huge, towering boats, but one of the little ones farther away from the activity, where small sailboats might dock— his parents seem to get impatient.</p><p>“Now I am getting hungry,” his father says, impatient but not unkind. “You don’t want to get something to eat?”</p><p>Arthur shakes his head, eyes unmoving from the way the tides lap peacefully at the base of the pier.</p><p>“A food stall is just over there, don’t you want to try some seafood?”</p><p>Another head shake. He’s never seen so many shades of blue all at once, mixing with green to sparkle like jewels.</p><p>His father sighs beside him, and Arthur hears his mother laugh softly again.</p><p>“Why don’t we go to the stall, and bring some back for the three of us to eat here? It’s close enough that we can still keep an eye on Arthur.” </p><p>Arthur glances up out of the corner of his eye to see his mother addressing his father, momentarily distracted by the slight accent that sounds more prominent now than she usually allows it to. His mother is different than the other women in the palace. Arthur doesn’t really know what this means, but he does know that hint of a dialect she usually tries to hide has something to do with it.</p><p>Arthur’s father stands up and ruffles his hair, momentarily blocking Arthur’s vision from the ocean. “Be good. Your mother and I will be back quickly.”</p><p>“Yes, Father,” he responds easily, fixing his hair back into place and returning his eyes to the ocean. After a few minutes he just manages to see something beneath the surface, something long and trailing, almost like a ribbon.</p><p>He scrambles onto his knees, trying to lean over the pier as far as he can. Still, the water is dense, and the sun reflecting off it makes it nearly impossible to see any of its contents below.</p><p>But there— another sliver, green— if Arthur could just…</p><p>“Ah!” he feels his glasses slip off his face and watches them hit the water, not managing to reach out in time with his short arm before they’re sinking. </p><p>Oh no.</p><p>The world is blurry and Arthur can’t see, and he wonders how upset his parents will be, if this will ruin the entire trip. It’s his fault. </p><p>Guilt and worry gnaw at him from the inside, and he’s looking around, seeing if there’s anyone nearby he could ask for help. He spots his parents in the distance, ordering at the food stand, but they’re too far. </p><p>He hears a loud sound behind him and looks back over at the water, just seeing a person erupt in a splash of waves from the surface. </p><p>She looks to be a young girl around his age, floating in the water with green hair hanging in pig-tailed tendrils behind her.</p><p>Arthur blinks at her— which his etiquette teacher would scold him for— mouth open and at a loss for words.</p><p>“Um—” she starts, looking nervous. “Here. I think you dropped these.” She reaches out a pale arm and holds Arthur’s glasses up.</p><p>It takes him another long moment before he comes back to himself.</p><p>“Oh!” Arthur reaches out and takes them carefully, before looking back at the strange girl gratefully. “Thank you so much! I thought I lost them. How did you find them?”</p><p>“I’m a good swimmer,” she responds, shy smile on her lips.</p><p>“Really? Could you teach me?” Arthur asks eagerly.</p><p>He doesn’t know why but she laughs, giggles, loudly but not unkindly. Arthur’s face burns red but he doesn’t say anything, finding himself enjoying the sound even through his embarrassment.</p><p>“I don’t think I can,” she says after she’s mostly calmed down.</p><p>“Why can’t you?” Again he thinks of his etiquette teacher, who would scold him for insisting, but he’s too curious to stop himself.</p><p>“Well…” she dives back underwater, and Arthur is momentarily disappointed to lose her company before he sees a big, scaled tail pop out from the water, glistening beautifully under the sun. </p><p><em> Wow, </em>he thinks. He’s never seen so many shades of green.</p><p>It goes back under and the girl pops out again, water trailing down her hair and her face. He can just see the outline of the tail below the surface, <em> her tail, </em>and his eyes widen.</p><p>She looks nervous, until Arthur breaks out in a delighted smile, bigger than he thinks he’s ever smiled before. Today is definitely the best day of his life; the young prince has peaked at age 7, and he finds himself more than okay with that.</p><p>Her responding smile is sweet and shining and Arthur can’t help but stare.</p><p>“Are you a—”</p><p>Before he can finish his question he hears his father call out distantly, something about returning with the food, and he sees the young girl’s impossibly pale green eyes widen in panic.</p><p>“Wait!” he calls, ignoring the approach of his parents and reaching out an arm to her, hoping to stop her before she swims away. It seems to work, at least somewhat, because she freezes halfway through turning away from him, and glances back at Arthur over her shoulder.</p><p>The young boy has so many questions, and no time at all. </p><p>
  <em> How does the ocean feel? Can you breathe underwater? What do you eat? Have you met a human before?  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Are you free to swim anywhere you please?  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Can I come with you?  </em>
</p><p>“What’s your name?”</p><p>After a moment of hesitation, she responds. “Frey.”</p><p>“Frey,” he breathes out, treasuring the sound of it. Arthur vows to never, ever forget that name.</p><p>“And you?” she asks tentatively, glancing back over his shoulder like at any moment someone might pop out from the pier and eat her.</p><p>His father calls out again, sounding closer this time. </p><p>“A-Arthur!” he responds quickly, and he sees Frey’s lips move silently, like she’s also saying the name to herself. “Can I find you again?” he asks almost frantically, but before she can respond the pier creaks under the weight of his parents’ return, and Frey dives under the water, gone.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>After going overboard, Arthur regains consciousness three times.</p><p>The first is the briefest, when he just manages to open his eyes enough to note that he’s draped across someone’s back, and that the ocean water is lapping at his cheeks and shoulders as the person below him swims quickly and easily against the current.</p><p>The second time has the sun beating against his eyes, making it difficult to open them as he feels himself laid back against the surface— sand.</p><p>He does manage to open his eyes, though, and he sees the figure of a woman over him, moving her head and blocking out the sun. She’s just as bright as it is, though. </p><p>“Arthur?” she whispers, like she almost can’t believe it, and Arthur’s breath catches in his throat.</p><p>Impossibly long waves of green hair cascade down from her in pigtails, hanging like a waterfall around where she hovers above Arthur. She’s pushed up on her arms, which frame either side of Arthur’s head, and looking down at him in a mix of awe and concern. She has a sturdy jaw and soft cheeks, blushing pink, and the biggest, impossibly pale green eyes he’s ever seen— well, except— </p><p>“Frey,” he breathes out, the response coming to him as naturally as sea foam to the shore, as if it was written into his very being.</p><p>Her eyes widen again, and her face breaks out in a brilliant smile, rendered even more dazzling by the glistening water dripping off her face and onto Arthur’s soaked form. Arthur’s breath rushes out of his lungs again and he wonders if he ever caught his breath to begin with or if he’s just full of sea water, and he thinks maybe this is better.</p><p>“You remember me.” Frey’s voice is soft but full of warmth, the smile reflected in the kind curve of her eyes.</p><p>“I never forgot,” Arthur responds almost fervently, like he’s 7 years old again and desperate to prove his sincerity; in court he’s always speaking in half-truths, in what others want to hear, in what people expect of a prince, but here in this moment he can speak in full truth, baring his soul to this woman (merwoman) who looks at him with open honesty and pink cheeks and the first gaze he’s ever seen that is as curious as his own. </p><p>“You have a good memory, don’t you?”</p><p>“Only for you.” Arthur relishes in the way Frey’s cheeks heat up, the way she purses her lips and fights off a pout.</p><p>
  <em> So cute. </em>
</p><p>“Do you flatter every mermaid you meet?” she asks, somehow sounding both teasing and genuinely curious.</p><p><em> Mermaid. </em>The name— the word— the confirmation of what he’s hoped for for years eases a weight off his chest that Arthur hadn’t even realized he had been carrying. Decorum nearly forgotten, he all but grins. Before Frey can ask what he’s thinking his smile shifts back into a fond, small curve of his lips.</p><p>“You’re the only mermaid I’ve ever met.” Arthur’s voice is slow and deliberate, and he watches the way Frey studies him. “But I never need to meet another to know you are the most striking.”</p><p>He watches Frey chew the side of her lip, before she grabs something that must have been lying next to Arthur. He recognizes the delicate silver frames of his glasses, and though one of the lenses has a crack in it they are surprisingly whole, otherwise.</p><p>“You’re making a habit of this, you know.”</p><p>He reaches up a hand to take them from her, blinking at the glasses in surprise.</p><p>“You found them for me,” he says, tone full of wonder. </p><p>“I watched you nearly get yourself killed trying to retrieve them,” Frey responds. “Silly human. I figured they must have been important.”</p><p>“You’ve already done this for me once before. <em> And </em>you saved my life. I am both sincerely grateful, and in your debt.”</p><p>Frey opens her mouth, and Arthur wants to cling on to every possible word she says in response but there’s a noise growing in volume behind him, like a group of people racing towards the beach.</p><p>It’s funny how history seems to repeat itself.</p><p>Frey pushes off her arms to bolt, throwing herself towards the shoreline, and Arthur only just manages to sit up and catch her wrist in his hand.</p><p>“Wait— I—” he feels guilty for holding her here, against her will, but he has to know. “How can I see you again?”</p><p>“I—” she bites her lip, glancing down at his hand. After a moment, the noises only getting louder, Frey looks back up at him with a sad shake of her head. She pulls her wrist from him, and since both his hand and her arm are still damp from being in the water, it slips out easily. Arthur watches, his vision fading back to black, as she dives back into the sea, her glittering green tail arcing magnificently through the sky.</p>
<hr/><p>The third time he regains consciousness he’s laying in a bed. The village chief tells him this is a small town off the Eastern coast of Norad. It would only be a few day’s ride to either Fenway Island by ferry, or the Capital by carriage, but Arthur decides it best to stay put until he can reunite with Yuan. </p><p>Three days later his decision is proven to be the correct one, as the royal boat docks in one of the town piers. Arthur’s making his way in that direction, enjoying the rare feeling of the sand beneath his bare feet, when Yuan comes racing down to find him.</p><p>“Prince Arthur!" Yuan throws his arms around Arthur in a sudden embrace. Arthur, for his part, is slightly limp in his arms from shock, unused to such overt affection from anyone, including his staunch attendant. “I’m relieved to see you unharmed. You had me so worried.”</p><p>“My sincere apologies,” Arthur responds with a slightly wry smile on his face. “I promise not to do that again.”</p><p>Yuan steps back from the hug to level a glare on Arthur, who expects he will be getting a stern lecture once they’re back in the castle. He’s saved from having to hear Yuan’s response by the sound of footsteps behind him. He turns to see the village chief, warm smile deepening the kind wrinkles on his face.</p><p>“I am glad to see you reunited with your company,” he says. </p><p>Yuan takes a deep bow. “Thank you for keeping the prince safe in my absence.”</p><p>Arthur straightens his arms and back and follows suit, voice filled with respect and gratitude. “Yes, I thank you deeply for looking after me the last three days, and I am sorry for having to impose on you so suddenly.”</p><p>The chief laughs, slightly sheepish, waving his hand kindly. “Please, it is our duty to look after a fellow person in need. Rather, we were shocked to see someone wash up on our shore, and a prince no less.”</p><p>“Let me know if there is anything at all that I can do to repay you for the kindness you’ve shown me,” Arthur says. </p><p>“Oh, I couldn’t…”</p><p>“No please,” Arthur continues. “I’d like to offer my gratitude.”</p><p>The village chief looks deep in thought. “Well… This month’s shipment of medicine has been delayed with more bandits terrorizing the trading routes.”</p><p>Arthur looks over at Yuan, who immediately nods. </p><p>“We will talk with the ship captain at once and spare all the medicine we can from our supplies,” the attendant says. “Once we are back in the kingdom we will also notify His Royal Majesty to tighten security along these roads.”</p><p>“Thank you, thank you,” the chief says sincerely.</p><p>Arthur turns back to Yuan. “If possible, I’d like to stay back and ask the chief a few more questions before we depart.”</p><p>Yuan looks at the prince slightly warily before he nods. “Of course. I will go discuss the matters of the medicine with the captain and be back to fetch you before we leave.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Arthur says. </p><p>When he and chief are alone the latter man turns and points towards the shore, beckoning Arthur to follow him as he strolls along its edge. “What is it you wanted to ask me, Your Highness?”</p><p>Even after years of mastering a perfect mask of politeness, Arthur has to stop himself from visibly cringing at that title. He hates the way it sounds, hates all it represents and all it keeps him from. He, of course, doesn’t voice any of this though, and instead turns a smile onto the chief.</p><p>“There are legends,” Arthur says slowly, gathering his thoughts, “of mythical creatures in this sea.” He glances over at the way the waves reflect the afternoon soon back up at him. “Do you know anything of them?”</p><p>“Ah yes, of course. Though very, very few have ever seen one in person, there are accounts of those who catch glimpses of sea monsters and mermaids in these waters. There are a few local books in the village library, if you would like to see them before you leave.”</p><p>Arthur hums. “Yes, I think I will. Thank you very much.”</p><p>The chief looks inquisitively up at him, his gaze studying. “May I ask what has you curious about these legends, Your Highness?”</p><p>Arthur thinks of how much to reveal, of half-truths and what people expect, of the mermaid’s— Frey’s— scared expression whenever she heard the sound of oncoming humans. “It’s… A fascination, one might say, that I have had for quite some time.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When he was young, the travel distance between the capital and the small port town where he first met Frey felt impossibly long. Arthur remembers staring out the window, enjoying the scenery as it slowly became more and more different from what he was used to, trying to contain his excitement as they drew closer and closer to this new destination.</p><p>As he grew up, however, Arthur quickly realized the trip was only about half a day’s journey by carriage. He remembers this again now. </p><p>A week after Arthur’s return from the trip in which he fell overboard, his father had discussed the matter of sending out a liaison for minor diplomatic matters in that same small port town. Apparently there were disputes between different sea merchant’s guilds, and some illegal fishing causing havoc for the town’s economy, food sources, and general safety.</p><p>Arthur— ignoring the pointed stare that Yuan was trying to bore into his skull— had jumped at the chance. With a bit of polite negotiating (which was essentially wheedling, though his etiquette teacher would have been proud), Arthur had managed to convince his father to allow him to handle the matters.</p><p>Within two weeks he has a modest office set up in the port town, and is finally, finally commuting somewhere other than the castle city. That is how Arthur finds himself now, working hard to faithfully perform his duties to the people of this town; he may have his own ulterior motives for wanting to set up base in the town where he had first met Frey, but he doesn’t allow this to get in the way of doing what he can for the people of Norad. He is a prince first, and Arthur second, after all. The search for Frey waits for the limited hours of free time that he can spare each week.</p><p>Another two weeks pass before anything of interest happens.</p><p>Arthur is sliding on his travel boots when he hears Yuan speak up from the back of the office.</p><p>“Going somewhere, milord?”</p><p>Arthur glances over his shoulder, and sees that Yuan has looked up from the report of witness’ accounts that he has spent the better part of the last hour reviewing.</p><p>“Ah, yes,” Arthur says easily, the deceitfulness of court life having taught him how to lie. Yuan is one of the few who can see through Arthur, though, and so the prince usually sticks to half-truths rather than flat-out lies when dealing with the man. “I was thinking of stretching my legs and getting some fresh air. Perhaps stopping by the onigiri stand.”</p><p>“Then allow me to come with you,” Yuan says, standing up from his chair and immediately reaching to grab the sword propped up on his desk.</p><p>“Oh— no, really, I won’t be gone long. Don’t trouble yourself.” Yuan opens his mouth to respond but before he can Arthur’s already finished lacing up his other boot and is stepping out the door, calling back “I’ll return soon, make sure to look after yourself!”</p><p>He <em> swears </em>that even through the now-closed door Arthur can hear the slightly older man sigh. </p><p>Now alone, Arthur walks down the cobblestone path and enjoys the atmosphere of the town. The sun, having dipped below the horizon over an hour ago, is now completely gone from the sky, leaving in its wake stars brighter than what Arthur can see in the capitol. The office he is occupying is directly in front of the sea, and Arthur walks over to the path’s ledge to look down at the way gentle waves lap at the stone; and the breeze, salty and brisk and tasting like the beginnings of freedom, works wonders in cooling down his skin.</p><p>Though he keeps his eyes trained on the dark, glittering sea— which spreads out from the town and far into the night’s horizon— Arthur is now and again stopped by the locals to chat. The friendly atmosphere that comes with such a small town is enough to warm his heart through and through; he hopes, one day, that he can live somewhere like this regularly.  </p><p>It’s just been long enough that Arthur thinks he should head back, before Yuan starts to worry too much, when he hears a faint commotion.</p><p> Arthur weaves through a few small alleys that open up into a small, secluded pier far from the other main docking ports. It has almost no illumination, with no torches and the surrounding buildings doing a surprisingly good job of blocking out the moonlight. The blonde strains to listen and can hear the faint sound of arguing, but the sequestered area is empty. </p><p>He takes a step towards the pier, willing his eyes to focus in the dark, and that’s when he sees a shape thrashing in the water, almost blending in with the tide.</p><p>Arthur hurries down the short length of the pier, leaning over to get a closer look, and nearly gasps when notices an all too familiar shade of green within the dark, inky black of the water. </p><p>“Frey?” He drops down to his knees, and the thrashing figure stops enough to look back up at him.</p><p>“Arthur!”</p><p>He feels a pit in his stomach so deep that it makes his hands tremble. Frey’s beautiful, inquisitive face is trapped behind the thick, criss-crossing black lines of a fishing net. She only just manages to push her shoulders past the surface of the water, her lean arms pushing up against the heavy fabric fruitlessly.</p><p>“How did this happen?” Arthur asks, immediately reaching down to try and find a clasp of some sort that might release the net.</p><p>Frey has stopped moving around, making it much easier for both of them to search the net. She moves down to reach for the lower spots that are easier for her to check from her position in the water, only glancing up now and again as she responds.</p><p>“I— well— I’ve always been just a bit too curious about humans for my own good, you know. And I’ve been scolded about it a few times, but I just can’t help it. Especially…” Her voice drops, and Arthur looks over to see her biting her lip, eyes shining up at him in the moonlight. “Especially when it means I’ve gotten to meet you.”</p><p>For what must be the umpteenth time around her (which is quite the feat considering this is only their third meeting) Arthur feels the breath rush out of his lungs. Yet again, (because he’s never learned) he has so many things he wants to say, and so many things he wants to ask. But now isn’t the time.</p><p>He isn’t sure there ever will be a time.</p><p>The sound of argument draws closer. Arthur looks over his shoulder and realizes that all of this probably ties into the situation of illegal fishing recently plaguing this town. In all his research on mermaids and sea creatures Arthur couldn’t avoid the detailed accounts of rare scales being sold as good luck charms, monster horns being collected for eccentric decorations, or even mermaids hunted to be put on display in some noble’s court somewhere.</p><p>The thought makes Arthur’s skin crawl with a flash of rage that he rarely ever feels.</p><p>“Arthur?”</p><p>At his name— said from the most beautiful voice— he glances back down into the water. Frey is looking up at him now, trapped as she is under the net. Her hair spills out between the cracks like seaweed, seeming like it’s adding to the weight pulling her down. </p><p>“I believe the men who trapped you in this are drawing near.” His voice is calm, focused, as he forces himself to sound this way so as to not make Frey worry any more than she already has. He starts patting around his coat, trying to remember where he keeps the… “Hold on, I’ll find a way to release you from this. Aha—”</p><p>From his coat’s inner breast Arthur procures a small, gilded pocket knife. Frey stares at it as he pulls off the handle, the blade catching in the light. The nervousness in her eyes seem to ease away into that curiosity Arthur has so quickly come to know.</p><p>He reaches down to grab at the net, pulling at it so as to keep it as far away from Frey as he can. “Stand— or, well, swim— back if you can, please.”</p><p>She does, and though the tightness of the net doesn’t allow for nearly as much room as Arthur would like, he puts the blade of the knife to where he’s holding the net taut and starts to cut.</p><p>It isn’t the sharpest knife, but he can feel it slowly fraying away at the rope.</p><p>“What is that?” Frey asks.</p><p>Arthur looks up into her eyes to smile, before going back to concentrating on the task at hand, the noises behind them drawing nearer still. He prays that they leave him enough time to at least let Frey escape.</p><p> “A ceremonial dagger, of sorts. Yuan— ah, my attendant, that is— gave it to me as a gift, once. Both to protect myself, and to fix my glasses, actually. I used to break them in inconvenient situations quite a lot, despite how much I treasure them.”</p><p>“I can see how that would happen.” Frey giggles softly, and the sound eases some of the tension from Arthur’s shoulders. </p><p>His lips twitch in a smile before he goes back to the net. He’s already cut a small hole through, but he keeps travelling along the side to make one big enough for Frey to escape by. </p><p>“I don’t mean to freak you out,” Frey says, voice dropping to a whisper, nearly drowned out by the voices behind Arthur, “but I think they’re coming closer.”</p><p>“Yes— It’s almost there,” Arthur says half-distractedly, putting all his effort into cutting through. He isn’t particularly fond of weapons but he wishes for once that he had a sharper blade on him.</p><p>“I’m telling you, if we sell it to Duke Corrine over West then—”</p><p>The voices are worryingly close now, making Arthur push the dagger even harder into the netting. <em> Just a few more squares, almost… </em>It frays so slowly against the dagger, whose hilt is held in a white-knuckled grip in Arthur’s hand, and it feels like the fishermen are almost upon them when he breaks through the last rope and—</p><p>“Wha—!”</p><p>Arthur feels a force pull him, a hand cover his mouth, and suddenly he’s falling through the surface of the water. He’s briefly reminded of the feeling of going overboard, but he regains his senses quickly and realizes that he’s already breathing air again.</p><p>The voices come to a zenith overhead and that’s when Arthur realizes he’s under the pier, floating in the water, with Frey against his front and holding him close. Without the net around her she can swim easily and keep them both above the surface.</p><p>His own arms automatically loop around the small of her back. Arthur tries not to let his mind fizzle out at the feeling of her pressed against him, the slim but surprisingly muscular frame of her smaller torso pushing into him before giving way to the long, broad expanse of her tail.</p><p>“Wait— <em>dammit— </em>where did that thing go?” one voice says above them.</p><p>“Shit. The boss is gonna kill us. Are you sure it isn’t there?”</p><p>His glasses, somehow still on his face, are blurred with water, and Arthur wills himself not to so much as breathe a sound. Frey is also quiet against him, except for the softest movement of her tail swishing under the water. The pier creaks above them under a certain weight, and he can just make out a hand reaching down into the water.</p><p>“Yeah, look. It’s just the net.”</p><p>“Well, shit. Wha’d’we do now?”</p><p>With a <em> plunk, </em>the net is thrown back down into the water.</p><p>He hears a sigh and the sound of one of the men standing again. “Dunno. Let’s head back to base, have Rosie pour us a drink, and send someone here to set up another trap tomorrow.”</p><p><em> Rosie, </em> Arthur thinks, making a mental note. <em> Rosie’s Tavern. </em></p><p>“Aww,” the other one groans, and it sounds like they’re starting to walk away. “But I was so excited to see that thing, can’t believe I left it to go grab you. Did you see the color of its tail? That green would’ve sold for a lot.”</p><p>Arthur feels his grip around Frey’s waist tighten.</p><p>“Yeah, well, whatever. We’ll catch another one. Hell, maybe if we’re lucky the same one will…”</p><p>Even after the voices are gone, Arthur and Frey wait a bit longer in the water, the bottom of the pier sheltering them from view. The blonde takes the chance to catch his breath, and then realizes he should check on Frey; this situation must be much more nerve-wracking for her than it is for him.</p><p>He glances down and immediately finds himself lost in being able to study her face from this close. Despite the state of his wet glasses he can see the slope of her nose and the planes of her cheeks, her solid jaw. Her eyes are cast to the side, still concentrating on listening no doubt, until she looks at him a few seconds later.</p><p>“Oh—” he hears her say, very softly. </p><p>“Are you okay?” Arthur asks finally.</p><p>She nods quickly. “Mhm. Luckily you were able to cut through in time” A pause. “Thank you for doing that. You saved my life.”</p><p>Arthur can’t help the soft smile that spreads on his lips. “Now we’re almost even.” </p><p>A laugh escapes Frey’s lips, and Arthur is left nearly awe-struck at the sight of her happy expression so close up. “I guess so.” </p><p>They shift slightly, Frey still holding Arthur against her as she keeps them floating above water. When Frey raises her gaze to his again a gap in the pier’s floorboards let just a sliver of moonlight through, enough to cast a watery glow over her light green eyes.</p><p>A long moment passes as they simply stare at each other, before Frey puts a hand against Arthur’s chest— making his already pink cheeks burn brighter— and pushes away just slightly, looking over her shoulder.</p><p>“You should probably get going. In case they come back.”</p><p>They pull apart and swim out to stop just next to the tiny pier, Arthur treading water and Frey still seeming to float in front of him with the elegant motions of her tail beneath the surface. </p><p>The prince has to fight the urge to physically shake some sense back into his head. “Yes, of course, you too. Please escape. And—” he takes a fortifying breath, willing himself to say the words he knows are most logical. <em> For her safety, </em>he thinks. “I… don’t think it’s best for you to return here.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I don’t think it’s safe. Not with that group having set up this hidden pier, and around the town in general.”</p><p>“When can I see you again?” Frey asks, echoing back the question he’s asked before, and Arthur bites his lip.</p><p>“I… I don’t know,” he whispers, his voice sounding weak to his own ears.</p><p>He watches Frey as she nods slowly, long limp pigtails pooling around the pale set of her shoulders, before turning to swim off.</p><p>A sense of panic seizes at his heart.</p><p>“Ah— Frey!” He calls out, louder than he probably should given the evening’s situation.</p><p>She freezes and turns around, eyes studying him. </p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“One month,” Arthur pleads, almost more to himself than her. “Give me one month, and I will make sure to free this town of those men.”</p><p>
  <em> And then you can come back. And then we can meet again. </em>
</p><p>The question— the promise, the plea— hangs between them, in the space where the waves move smoothly with the wind along the water’s surface. </p><p>Then, even with his vision hazed by the water droplets clouding his miraculously intact lenses, Arthur manages to make out a smile and a nod on Frey’s face before her tail flips up into the air and she leaves again. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>With the information he was able to gather from that night at the secret pier, Arthur could set a plan in motion. He had returned that night to the office and proceeded to work with a fervor, surprising even Yuan. </p><p>In 3 weeks, 4 days, and 15 hours, the illegal fishing group— which turned out to be a criminal’s guild of black market salesmen, predictably— was rounded up, convicted, and packed away in a jailer’s carriage to take to the capital. Arthur himself had to go as well to testify, and it wasn’t until a week later that he was able to return to the port town, under the not-entirely-accurate excuse that he had a few things left to wrap up in the office that he would soon have to leave behind to return to the capital.</p><p>The capital.</p><p>It was strange how the city he had grown up in his entire life already didn’t feel like home anymore, after such a short time away. Arthur wonders if this was how his mother had felt, too, before she left.</p><p>“Milord,” Yuan says, drawing Arthur out of his thoughts. Regardless of the inconceivable amount of layers the man is wrapped in, Yuan’s hands are shaking as they row the oars of the small boat, though his face remains as stern as ever, hiding the peevishness Arthur knows to spot. A cool early-Autumn breeze dances across the water, and yet again Yuan’s hair remains impeccable against the weather. “Will you perhaps give me a reason now why we’re out here?”</p><p>The late afternoon sun warms Arthur’s fingers as they grip his own pair of oars. He looks up from the water to glance at Yuan.</p><p>“Well, I said I wished to go on a short trip by row boat, and you insisted on accompanying me. And so here we are.”</p><p>“I understand why we’re here, Your Highness,  but I mean why are we <em> here?”  </em></p><p>Adjusting his glasses and going back to looking at the water, Arthur speaks almost absently. “I always forget how poorly you fare the moment the weather turns cold. One wouldn’t think it, knowing how stalwart you usually are.” </p><p>Yuan grumbles something that Arthur can’t quite catch.</p><p>“What was that?” the prince asks, with as polite a tone as ever.</p><p>“I said I still wonder what is of such importance here,” Yuan gestures vaguely at the water, “That would have you taking a boat out every day here for the past week. Especially since our business in this town ended.”</p><p>Arthur bites his cheek. It’s true. Despite Arthur’s promised deadline of a month coming and passing, and the fishermen gone, he has yet to see head or tail of Frey. After nearly two weeks of walking along the port town’s edge with no sight of her, and running out of excuses back in the castle to keep him returning to this town, Arthur had started finding new ways to look for her.</p><p>He continues to row the small boat slowly, unsure of how to answer Yuan. What if something had happened to her? What if they keep missing each other? Or what if she decided she didn’t want to see him anymore?</p><p>It’s the unknown that makes Arthur so concerned.</p><p>“Milord?”</p><p>The oars are unmoving in his hands. Arthur looks up once again at Yuan, into the earnest pair of eyes that reflect back the color of the waves around them, and wonders if he should confide in his attendant— arguably his closest friend. Arthur wonders if he can, after all, trust people.</p><p>“I…” Arthur starts, slowly. Yuan stops rowing as well. The sun is starting to set now, the sky a brilliant orange behind them. “The truth is, I’m looking for someone.”</p><p>Yuan doesn’t say anything, but rather takes a moment to slowly glance at their surroundings, as if meaning <em> ‘Out here?’ </em></p><p>A sigh falls from Arthur’s lips. “I— well, the truth is…” He feels strangely nervous admitting this thing that he has kept a secret for so long, his own <em> personal </em> secret, as if never saying it out loud kept it from the reaches of court-life— the one thing that he could fully consider his, <em> Arthur’s, </em>and not the kingdom’s. “On the day I went overboard, I was—”</p><p>Arthur’s gaze trains on something in the distant, his heart catching in his throat like it might leap out and dive into the water, and suddenly he’s scrambling to get the oars back into his hands and in motion with an uncharacteristic lack of level-headedness.</p><p>“Milord, what is—”</p><p>As if a three-headed sea monster might pop out suddenly, Yuan shoots a baffled look over his own shoulder to where Arthur’s gaze is trained, but Arthur’s already started rowing again. </p><p>He recognizes the floating strands of her hair, the distant shape of her face and shoulders, but why doesn’t he see that shade of green? Why isn’t that the first thing he noticed?</p><p>The boat begins to move a lot quicker when Yuan starts rowing again as well, until they’re pulling it just alongside the floating body in the water. </p><p>Arthur almost leaps entirely out of the thing in his attempt to loop his arms under Frey’s. </p><p>“Frey?” His voice sounds unusual to his own ears, worried and bewildered and almost frightened. She’s breathing, a shallow movement of her chest, but she doesn’t respond, her eyes closed and lashes resting over the slope of her cheekbones. As Arthur pulls her into the boat— Yuan carefully leaning the other way to counterbalance— drops of water spill over Frey’s skin like tear drops, or shooting stars.</p><p>It’s when Arthur pulls her all the way over the rim of the boat that he realizes what feels so incredibly <em> off </em>about this moment: Frey is wearing a simple blue dress that pools heavily around her hips, and past the sodden skirt are a pair of slender, pale legs.</p><p>Legs.</p><p>Arthur’s cradling her in his lap, not letting go, when he looks back up at Yuan. The confusion and panic and fear must be shining in his eyes, because after taking one look at him any question seems to melt away in Yuan’s gaze, instead being replaced with the steadfast calmness that the attendant is well-known for.</p><p>“Let us get her to shore, Your Highness, and bring her to the castle physician.”</p><p>Arthur nods, not trusting himself to speak, as Yuan starts to row them back. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>&gt;:3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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